The Thieving way
by writing.is.a.curse
Summary: Emery is a small Nord, barley tipping the scale at 130 soaking wet, not that she'd know, she can't swim, which coincidentally is exactly the factor that leads her to meet Mercer Frey, master thief and leader of the thieves guild, oh what has she gotten herself mixed up in this time? I'm actually sorry I'm so bad at summaries.
1. Divines curse it

Emery wasn't exactly sure what she was doing just north-west of Riften outside something called the golden glow estate, but here she was and here she was going to get something rather than nothing finished.

There were about a dozen mercenaries in there, and by the looks of it, they were hostile, that and there was a dead guard lying outside their gate.

So, being a natural trouble-magnet, Emery decided, with her most rash decision making, that she was going to somehow formulate a brilliant plan to get inside and kill every single mercenary in there.  
Of course, it was a rich estate, which meant gold, which was half the reason she was going in the first place.

There was only one troublesome thing about this all, and believe it or not it wasn't the amount of hostile men inside those tall gates, it was the fact that the only way Emery was going to get inside was swimming through the lake and down to a sewer which ran under the house and lead up right in the heart of it. Except, divines curse her, Emery couldn't swim.

Wiping her hands a few times over her leather trousers, courtesy of Whiterun's blacksmith, she snuck up to the edge of the gate, just where the bridge stopped, and a small gap, just small enough for her to get through, was between the stone fencing and the bridge wall.  
Sneaking past the mercenary who was sitting lazily on top of the gate itself, no doubt being bored of guard duty, she squeezed through the gap and plunked straight into the cool water, only reaching her rib cage, so far, so good.

But, as is happens, she spoke too soon. Wading out barely a foot into the cloudy water, she found herself kicking her feet in desperate attempt to not drown herself.  
Huffing, Emery hauls herself over to the nearest bridge support and holds on for dear life. Scowling, the blonde nord thought about herself drowning and figured it would be a very sad day for all those who believed the dragonborn was destined to defeat Alduin, to figure out she'd drowned in a pond, that and she'd be the laughing stock of sovengarde.

She barely has time to flicker her dark eyes up to the man on the fence before a light flickers into existence, and Emery finds herself cursing those stupid mages and their candlelight spells. Having barely enough time to squirm away from the bridge pillar she manages to squeeze herself under the bridge itself, and it was a nice plan at first before she found herself unable to grab onto anything suitable to hold onto, not even a foothold.

Panic races through the dovakin, and she finds herself wishing, not the first time that day that she could be back at breezehome with Lydia, stoking the fire and cooking her splendid meals.  
Emery takes a deep breath, stocking her lungs full of air before she stops kicking her feet and sinks under the water.

Opening her eyes, which would make them water had she been on land, she looks around for a way out from under the bridge, only she underestimated just how _dark _it was going to be under the water, and she found herself unable to see anything, and that air she had stocked up on was running low.

In desperate attempt to get to some sort of air, Emery's lungs without consulting her brain or rationalization it seems, took a huge breath of water, and the small nord resists the urge to look for a flame nearby, because her lungs are on fire, her air supply vanished, and choked down by water, and now that it's in her system, she feels her arms and legs almost physically turn to molten lead and she's unable to kick, or scream, or fight the water in any way or form.

Just as the dragonborn feels her brain going fuzzy, and the pain subsides a small amount, a leather clad hand grabs hers and hauls her out of the water with a splash, and life bursts through her like a spark, her lungs on fire once more, and her limbs simply, screaming in pain.

She doesn't even get a chance to open her eyes, or even breathe before she feels herself black out in a haze of darkness.


	2. Kid or dragonborn?

**N/A- Guess what I actually got around to updating, ****_the exact same night. _****That's kind of a record for me. Anyways, it's late, and I'm really tired, so I'm not completely sure how this turned out, you can see for yourselves. Anyways, more will be coming tomorrow because even though I'm only 2 chapters in I'm having fun writing this and hopefully our dragonborn will have another encounter with Mercer Frey soon hmm?**

Emery stretches out her hand, and finds what can only be grass underneath it.  
She's in extreme discomfort, her lungs, legs, and arms arching, and her eyes, even closed, are stinging, so when she finally gets up and starts coughing her insides up, and doesn't open them.

"Easy, don't hurt yourself kid"  
Emery decides, now that there's a strange man speaking to her, it's really best she does open her eyes, so she tries them out and figures out to her relief that she _can _still see, but it _does _hurt.

Wincing, Emery pushes herself to her unsteady feet with her hands, and almost topples over. Once her eyes her eyes are properly adjusted, she finds herself in the forest, the lake she almost drowned in spreading out in front of her, and beside her, none to her surprise, because he spoke earlier, is a middle aged Breton, scowling, and despite the fact it's her, and not him cold, shivering, and in pain, he's the one looking angry, annoyed, and severely out of place in the golden and orange forest, the sun shining on his back.

She should, in all technicalities thank him for saving her, and ask him why he saved her, but instead she blurts out "I'm the dragonborn, actually, not a "kid""

He raises an eyebrow and says "My apologies, _dragonborn, _I never could have guessed someone with such importance would be stupid enough to drown in a pond that's barely seven feet deep"  
Pushing down the need to throw whoever this man is in the lake and drown him to see how he likes it she retorts "Do I look seven feet tall to you"

He shrugs and says "You'd still like to think the heroin who's supposedly going to save Skyrim would at least know how to swim"

"Wow, for how annoying you're being you would never have guessed you just saved a drowning person from a lake, maybe you should stop acting like roles are reversed, and next time think about it a little bit before you dive into a lake to save somebody you clearly have no interest in saving" She snaps, before finding her bow, which is laying on the ground where she was previously sitting, and noticing regrettably that all her ebony arrows are nowhere in sight.

She turns back to the Breton man, who's dressed in all grey clothing with tons of pockets and straps meant for hiding lock picks and small weapons, and asks in a monotone voice "What did you do with my arrows"  
"I have no interest in your arrows kid, I'm a swordsman, not an archer"  
"Stop calling me kid" Emery says as a side thought, "It's rather annoying"

Not waiting, for his response, she stalks up the small hill and starts walking towards Riften, which is a mass of buildings in the distance, all the while praying, and hoping to Talos that he, whoever he is, doesn't follow her.

It takes a good hour or so to reach Riften, and it's by far the worst hour Emery has ever spent in Skyrim.  
Once she discovers the Riften stables, the need to collapse knowing a guard would haul her into the inn is too great, but she's the dragonborn, and she must have more pride than that, right?

Right. Emery makes it to the gates, being stopped by a guard asking for tax to enter the city.  
She barely hears herself talking to him and saying something about how ridiculous this stupid tax is and the guard lets her in, a light blush creeping up onto his cheeks. _ I hope you die, _Emery thought sourly and very out of character and she stalked past him, cold, wet, and in pain, into Riften, and found herself in a gloomy city, everything made of Oakwood, much to her pleasure, it was better than the stone houses in Markarth, at least.

Finding her way to the inn is all but easy, except for the fact she almost walked into Helga's bunkhouse which would have made for a very scandalous and atrocious story indeed.

But, the Bee and Barb was just across from the bunkhouse, so she had a room and a bed for a day in no time. The room was small, that much she could see with her weary eyes, except she couldn't remember the way out of her room, just that there was a bed in front of her, and she felt drowsy, more than she should have, even after nearly drowning, and it just occurs to her and she's lying flat on her back atop of the blankets, that maybe, just maybe the sketchy Breton poisoned her.


	3. a task or two

**Sorry I've been really busy and haven't gotten around to updating, hopefully I'll have more updated tomorrow **

Emery wakes, for not the first time that day, or maybe it was past a day, barely able to open her eyes and feeling tired, dreary, and like somebody took the hilt of an iron sword to her face.

She can feel her consciousness slipping away, quickly she opens her eyes and find she surroundings the exact same as the night before, aside from the fact that there's a person dressed in dark grey leaning against a wall, their faced is covered by a hood, not that it would matter if it wasn't Emery's vision is already fading and soon she finds herself back on the straw bed.

_Scuffling boots? _Is Emery's first thought she can actually remember, and by now she'd like to say she's sick of blacking out, but it is certainly a much more golden option then wherever she is, lying on her back, wet, cold, and well, thoroughly annoyed.

"Where am I?" she inquires, although mostly to herself, and not expecting anybody to answer, she's startled when somebody _does _answer.

"In an ally, don't fret I've got no weapons besides a guard just passed, holler if you want out"  
Emery really, really wished Aela could have been around to see the next move she made, because it was so quick even the man who had presumably dragged her here didn't see it coming until a dagger was pointed at his collar, his back shoved against a wall.

"Who are you, and what do you want with me" she demands.  
The Breton gives a throaty laugh and looks down at the knife threatening to end his life.  
"I'm Frey, Mercer Frey" he says, pausing, and allowing Emery to think about the way he just said his name and how it meant he was probably more on the arrogant side of the road.

"And, I'm _interested, _for lack of phrase, in you"

"Why" she says, gritting her teeth.

"Because you're the Dragonborn"

Emery rolls her eyes "You didn't know that to begin with"

"No I just saved an innocent from a pond and it turns out as, well, they're not so innocent. It's the fact that now I know you're the dragonborn that's keeping me here"

"Fact isn't keeping you here my knife is" Emery points out, relaxing her grip enough to allow space between them, but not enough so he could try to escape.

"Fair enough, but listen, I've got a task for you, if you're interested, and if you pull it off right, they'll be coin in it for you"

"Why do you want me to do a task" she says furrowing her eyebrows together.

"Think of it as an experiment"

Emery shoves him back against the wall and turns to leaves the alleyway when she hears him call out behind her "Talk to Brynolf at the marketplace if you do happen to be intrigued"

The dragonborn was about to turn around and rudely tell him just how interested she'd be and what she'd rather be doing, but when she faced the alley, the dark haired Breton was vanished, leaving no signs he was ever there in the first place.


	4. A chance arrangement

**I AM SORRY. I'm sorry I haven't been updating, my computer is broken so it can't get internet access, unless I hook it up to another computer with an ethernet cable, which I have fortunately. Soo I'm gonna update the next few chapters, and hope you guys like it. **

Chapter 4: A chance arrangement

Even thought fate was probably ruled against her, and this wasn't a good idea in the least, Emery decided to speak to this 'Brynolf' character in the market and see what exactly Frey, Mercer Frey wanted from her.

Outside the alley the sun was peeking out of the clouds, the air was crisp and cold and leaves fell from golden and auburn colored trees, scattering around the feet of locals.

The marketplace was right in front of her and about 6 people were crowded around a small stand with elixirs and potions lining the shelves on either side.

Emery walked lightly forwards and peered around the edge of the crowd to see a nord man with ginger hair and a scruffy beard advertising some sort of falmer blood elixir of health.  
Ignoring him, she pushed by the people until she found herself in front of a jewelry stand, a young argonian standing behind it, looking at her with wide eyes.

"Here to buy some jewels? They're all hand crafted" he hissed lightly.  
Emery cleared her throat and stepped forwards, balancing her weight on the palms of her hands resting on the stand.

"No actually I was wondering if you've heard of a fellow named Brynolf, I need to speak with him and I have no knowledge of my way around the city"

The argonian narrowed his eyes "Oh you're one of _them. _Well then, I suspect you'd find him where the crowd of mindless fools are gathered, waiting to waste their gold on yet another useless potion. Come back if you ever need anything!" he says in a raspy tone as the dragonborn turns around and walks back towards the crowd. They break apart before she gets to the front in a chaos of "What a waste of time's" and "Never trust a thief's"

Emery scrunches her eyebrows together and approaches the friendly looking man who was actually probably a thief.

"Need something lass? You look like you could use a bit of extra gold"

"Uh, no actually somebody named Mercer Frey sent me here" the nord's eyes narrow and he speaks in a less welcoming tone this time "I've no idea who Mercer Frey is, but I can offer you a job and some gold to go with it, if you succeed that is" he adds, putting down the falmer blood elixir of health.

Heaving a breath Emery sighs, wishing she could have just come to this stupid city and sought out the jarl and that dragon she wanted Emery to kill, instead of getting tangled up in well, whatever it was she was tangled in.

"Sure" she says sighing again.  
Brynolf lets out a chuckle, and it makes him look younger than that familiar scowl did.

"Aye, so a thief at heart then?"

"What?" Emery questions looking back at him "No I'm not really a thief, I've stolen obviously but never actually considered myself a thief"

"Any good at it? Stealing I mean"  
Emery chewed her lip. She tried to reason with herself, she was small, light, and easily blended into the shadows, she was also not bad at lockpicking and breaking and entering, but to call herself a thief? She just wasn't sure that was what you would call it.

"I'm a fair lockpicker, and I'm not bad with pickpocketing and breaking and entering"

Brynolf grinned and looked her in the eye "A fine thief then and one ready to make some gold?"  
"Okay" Emery says, because this man obviously knew the Breton who had so cockily introduced himself as Frey, Mercer Frey, and she wanted to find out what kind of experiment he was trying to run here and why he wanted her to speak to Brynolf in the first place.


	5. Criminal master idiots

Chapter 5: Criminal master-idiots

So she wasn't exactly sure what exactly the tall and _very _muscular nord had asked her to do she was too busy staring down the alleyway where Mercer Frey had just vanished when there was only one way out and she had been watching it, practically the whole time.

She defiantly knew that she had to pickpocket somebody called Medesi and steal his silver ring, or gold…Ah it didn't matter, and place it in the pocket of Branshei, a dark elf, although she didn't catch why, or maybe Brynolf didn't tell her why.

Emery was now crouched behind Medesi, the argonian she had spoken to earlier, who really couldn't afford his belongings being stolen, so she just told herself Branshei would be framed and he'd probably get it back anyways.  
Creeping up right behind the argonian she slipped her hand inside his pocket and felt, gold, a few lockpicks and a necklace, but no ring.

_Pickpocket Medesi? _She asked herself slipping her hand out of his pocket but not before removing his gold.

_No, steal from his strongbox! _Shaking her head and fighting the impulse to hit herself, Emery got out her picks and snuck to his strongbox, successfully opening it with just 3 broken picks, she removed Medesi's silver ring and put it in her pocket, standing up abruptly, a guard and a local catching sight of her and tilting their heads, she was a stranger to Riften after all.

Emery guessed Branshei was the only dark elf in the market, sitting atop a couple crates and acting as if he cared less about Brynolf's falmer elixir, which had been the nord's brilliant distraction plan, while it proved successful for her, it made him look like an idiot, and a shame too, he had so much potential, not that she didn't expect he had a lot more as a thief.

Figuring the best way to Branshei was through the back of a stand and behind the crates he was sitting on, she snuck past a few guards chatting about how their cousins were out fighting dragons and they were stuck on guard duty, she got behind Branshei and grabbed the silver ring.

Wishing herself luck since nobody else would do it, Emery stuck her hand quickly and quietly inside his pocket, dropped the ring and withdrew it, sneaking out of her shadowed area and back to the center of the marketplace just as everybody started getting really fed up with Brynolf and his stupid cures for old age which did no more for you than Skooma did, and by the looks of a few of them, some in Riften would know from experience, but taking care of Skooma dealers would have to wait until she figured out all this Mercer Frey business.

"It's done" she snaps, standing at full height behind Brynolf.  
He turns around and breaks out into a grin, taking the shorter woman's shoulders and shaking her a bit

"Aye, you'll make a fine thief"

"I don't doubt it" she retorts, shaking off the russet haired mans hands.

"So, what now?" she inquires, tipping back on the balls of her feet and rocking back forwards.

"Well lass, now I'd say you're ready for your next challenge, something to prove you've got the fighting skill to get yourself out of a crime gone wrong"

"Meaning" Emery said, finding particular interest in her nails all of the sudden; she hated having to prove herself.

"Meaning lass, if you can find your way through the ratway and meet me at a tavern called the ragged flagon; you'll get your next task"

"Yippee" she replies uncrossing her arms in time to see Brynolf turn away from her and back to the crowd booing and shouting at him for wasting their time, that and Branshei being taken away by the guards.

There was a certain satisfaction in that.

Finding her way _to _the ratway was easy, take the descending stairs down to the boat docks under the city, and turn towards the shabby gate that read thief all over it. That and she had asked a guard on her way down.

Now the only issue was finding her way _through. _Emery wasn't worried about danger in the ratway, unless the danger was getting lost, then she was more than worried, because the slim nord had been known to lose her way before, especially in dark underground sewers.

Shaking out her feet from her unexpected dunk in the water, she approached the rusty gate and flicked it open, a dull lighted hall and a door standing in between her and the ratway, taking a breath and hoping for the best and easiest route to the flagon possible, she opens the door and steps inside.


	6. The ragged, shabby and dirty flagon

Chapter 6: The ragged, shabby and dirty Flagon.

Emery heard voices the second the raggedy door closed with a click behind her.  
It was too hard to make out exactly what they were saying with accents from somewhere she didn't even recognize, but she figured it skimmed along the waters of gold, stolen objects, and not wanting to get locked up in the keep.

Chuckling, Emery pulled out her sleek Ebony bow and approached forwards with caution, her footsteps eerily quiet against the stone paths of the ratway.

Walking with her bow drawn she rounded a corner and BAM! The first hostile went down with a thud his friend whirring around and catching sight of her, narrowing his eyes and advancing with a sinister grin.  
Too bad she was waiting for him with the force of a dragon, as she reared back and shouted

**_FUS RAH DOH_**!

The leather-clad thief slammed into the back wall and was silenced with an arrow to the heart, which Emery collected as she padded by his body.

The next part of the Tunnel appeared to be a straight across bridge, except for the fact that it wasn't drawn down, and the lever glinted silver on the opposite side of the room.

Double checking the only way was to jump down into the tunnels below, she let her legs dangle off the side before landing with a thud that sent prickles up her feet.

In front of Emery was a single tunnel which lead forwards for a bit until she got to a gate, and opening it, a gorgeous garden worn with time, a few butterflies fluttering around the leaves of plants only an alchemist could properly identify.

Beyond that was a blank room which held a single bear trap, activating it so she didn't step on it on the way back, presuming she was headed this way once she got her second assignment, but the second it slapped closed with a sharp sound a skeever shot out from the shadows, but fortunately, with her quick thinking and skilled training with a bow, Emery shot it down before it could bite her, and poison her, how cute would it be to be known as the dragonborn who died in the sewers of Riften?

Walking past its body and advancing into the next room, Emery found herself behind a presumable low-life, chopping up some food and beyond him the bridge she saw earlier, and two tunnels, one that must have lead to the flagon.

Shooting him down easily and collecting her arrow, Emery figured out the first tunnel lead nowhere and the second had a door with 'The ragged Flagon' scratched in, she opened it and the smell of fresh bread and mead caught her off guard.

Once the door was closed behind her, Emery found herself in a dirty but wide opening, a shallow body of water spreading out in front of her, and resting on it the ragged flagon, which had a balcony extending over the water, seating a redguard woman with short dark hair and a lady in dark blue robes, and if she hadn't of known better, Emery would have called her a mage, except she happened to know there was a sculptor of faces in Riften, and that must have been her.

Guarding the path leading up to the tables and the actual tavern, was a very ugly man whose race was unidentifiable, with short blonde hair caked through with dirt and mud and squinty eyes.

"What you lookin at?" he barked as Emery passed by, feeling very small in the shadow of this big man.

"Nothing" she said defiantly, brushing past and looking for Brynolf.

Before her were a number of people, a slim blonde leaning against the counter where a handsome man with an apron was serving her mead, a bald man who looked friendly in a don't-mess-with-me way, and finally Brynolf, no longer in his fine clothes, but in thieves armor, a sword strapped to his belt.

"Aye lass, over here!" he calls out, beckoning her over to the table seating him and the friendly looking bald man.

"This lass, is Delvin Mallory, and Delvin this is Emery"

Said person found herself wondering if she told him his name or not, because she didn't remember doing so.

"Nice to meet you" she said pulling up a chair and wondering just how you introduced yourself to a pile of thieves.

Delvin snorted a got up to join the skinny blonde across the flagon, leaving Emery to turn to Brynolf.  
"So, you sounded surprised to see me any reason in particular or were you just hoping I had rotted to death in the ratway?" She asked with sharp spite.

"Calm down lass, I didn't exactly want you dead, I had actually placed bets with Vex that'd you'd make it here alive"

The blond woman looked over once Brynolf said her name and gave Emery a hostile glare before turning back to Delvin.

"Well that's reassuring" Emery muttered still teeming her gaze over to Vex who seemed to dislike her already, what could she say the feeling was mutual.

"Anyways, this can't be all of you?" _Can it? _She wondered to herself, shortly realising it actually could have been all of them and she'd never know because with the way things were going with Brynolf and Vex already disliking her, Emery figured she wouldn't last long down here.

"No actually lass it's not, this is just our main crew, I guess you could call it, the rest of us thieves are hidden away in the Cistern, it's just behind the tavern actually"

"Okay, well what about Mercer Frey, he's a Breton, greyish hair, sketchy looking, you know"

Brynolf barks with laughter and leans back on two legs of his chair.  
"You mean do I know the head of our organization and the second, no third most important person in Riften? Yeah I may know him"

Feeling her cheeks redden, Emery looks down and fiddles with her gauntlets for a little while, before Brynolf settles down and leans forwards.

"Ready for your second job lass"

"Sure" Emery sighs loudly and exaggeratedly

"Suck it weakling nobody gets to meet Mercer until they've proved more than a beggar looking for some gold" Vex snapped as she slid past them.

"Ahh" Brynolf says trailing his gaze after the very slim Vex "sorry bout' her, Vex can be temperamental, and probably thinks you're here to replace her"

"Why?" Emery questions looking after Vex and wondering why the other woman could possibly think that a small nord with zero experience could dream of replacing her, and restraining from snapping out that she had already in fact met, and been poisoned by, Mercer.

"Why not?" Brynolf asks, raising a ginger eyebrow before knotting his hands together and leaning back.

"Right back to the job, so we need some deadbeats, that need some taking care of, and no I don't want you to kill em' lass we don't use that method, I want you to teach them a lesson, see they owe a bit of gold to the guild and they're not exactly keen on paying up, try and convince em' to see the light and if not, take care of them in the least hurtful way possible, got it?"

"Sure thing" Emery says, trying to pay attention to his every word

"Alright, so the names are, Helga from the bunkhouse, Keerava who runs the bee and barb, and lastly the Breton who owns the pawned prawn Bersi Honey-hand, I do believe anyways…" Brynolf trails off and Emery takes it as her signal to leave, much as it looks, the every body's pleasure.

**So, last update for today, I'll get more done tonight or tomorrow :) **


End file.
